study over the summer, at least a bit, mostly math, so you don't lose everything I've taught you." Then his expression softened. "But other than that, your assignment is simply to be young. Be kids."
If he kept this up, we'd get all misty-eyed.
"Can we eat the junk food we brought for the pa rrrrr ty yet?" Rebecca asked.
Okay, so maybe one of us was in no danger of getting misty-eyed.
"Yes, Rebecca," the Mr. McG said. "It's party time. But you do realize, don't you, that you only need to roll your r 's when you speak Spanish, and that you're not speaking Spanish right now?"
Rebecca rolled her eyes before responding, " Rrrrr idiculous."
***
For school parties, moms, and sometimes dads, sent in baked goods or, if they're really extreme, healthy snacks. But we Eights didn't have any parents around at the moment to do that for us. So while Will Simms's mom had sent in a special cooler so we could make snow cones and Mandy Stenko's father had sent in a tray of raw vegetables, we'd had to prepare something ourselves. What we brought was a case of mango juice boxes; brownies that Durinda had made, with Jackie's help; and two cans of pink frosting, one for the rest of us to put on our brownies and one for Rebecca.
"I'm going to really miss you guys over the summer," Mandy said to us, chomping on a celery stalk as we hung around the playground.
The sun felt good on our faces.
"Yeah, us too," we did our best to agree.
"I don't know what I'll do all summer without you," Will Simms said. "Maybe we could get together occasionally and find ways to get into trouble?"
Good old Will. How could we refuse?
By the time it got close to eleven thirty, and with the bouncy little yellow bus soon to arrive to transport us for the last time as third-graders, the McG, our old teacher who was now our principal, showed up with her long nose.
"So. Eights." She paused.
We waited.
"Next year. Fourth grade." She paused again.
We waited again.
"Nice job this year."
We smiled.
"But I'll be keeping my eye on you next year. Both eyes. Both eyes, a microscope, and a magnifying glass."
We frowned.
But then...
Beep-beep!
The bus.
Yippee! Time for summer vacation!
***
That night, when seven of us crawled into bed and Petal crawled back under it, we were both shocked and pleased that we'd survived Friday the thirteenth with nothing terrible happening to us.
Petal was particularly pleased that there had been no visits from the ax murderer.
"It doesn't really mean anything," Rebecca shouted loudly enough from her bed that both bedrooms of Eights could hear her.
We waited for her to make her point.
"On New Year's Eve," she went on, "when the rest of the world was celebrating and blowing party horns and wearing funny hats, our parents disappeared. Or died. Then on Friday the thirteenth, what do we get? Something awful or a visit from Petal's ax murderer? No, we get cans of pink frosting." She yawned. "Probably on our birthday, instead of us having a cake, the world will come to an end."
Oh, thanks, Rrrrr ebecca. Thanks a lot!
FIVE
But the next day, Saturday, we didn't have time to think about dire things like the world coming to an end.
It was summer vacation and we were too busy getting ready for our trip—to France!
"We need to pack," Annie announced.
"But the Mr. McG said we were supposed to laze in a hammock," Georgia objected, her face falling. She'd just dragged the hammock out.
"Too bad," Annie said. "You and Rebecca, get the suitcases out of the attic. Durinda and Jackie, dust the suitcases. Marcia and Zinnia, pack suitable clothes for all of us; we'll need fancy dresses for the wedding and something comfortable for the plane ... and don't forget the underwear! Petal, enjoy your morning under the bed."
Georgia crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at Annie. "And what will you be doing while we're doing all the work?"
"I'll be driving over to Pete's Repairs and Auto Wrecking," she said with a toss of the
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